


The heat of a half-galra

by KatelynKnight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Furry Keith...but not really, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Happy Ending, Keith Does too, Lance short circuits, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pidge is smol and evil, a bit of plot before the smut, also a mother hen sometimes, also a tiny bit of angst, galras are weird, heat - Freeform, keith is cute, klance, klance 4 life, lance has a crush, lance is confused, not following the plot of the show, over-sized alien cat Keith, really just sex with a bit of plot, top bottom switching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2019-11-13 12:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18031934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatelynKnight/pseuds/KatelynKnight
Summary: If finding out that he was half-alien was not enough, Keith is about to realize what really means to have Galra blood inside his body; especially now that it has been awakened. He certainly was not expecting it to affect his interactions with the other team-members, mainly the ones with Lance, not as radically as it did. So, when the word 'heat' is thrown at him, the half-galra is certain things can't get worse that that.





	1. Weird things are happening

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This work is going to be on the shorter side. I just wanted to write Keith in heat so much that I couldn't stop myself. Don't know how often I'll update but I hope you will enjoy it!

                Several things are bound to happen when one discovers that he is some kind of half-alien-half-human hybrid; especially if the alien part is provided by the most feared and hated race in the entire Universe--the Galra.

            One of said things is being second-guessed by your friends for a certain amount of time, before everything slowly sets back into a somewhat normal pace. The second is feeling out of sorts in your own body, questioning the reality you live in and wishing on whatever star that things could go back to how they were before; because you most definitely shouldn’t feel like crawling out of your skin half the time someone so much as lays a hand on your shoulder. Keith can vouch for that one.

            Don’t get him wrong, the half-galra has been through a lot more than your average teen, though he never wanted to disappear on the spot quite as much as he wanted to do it lately. You see, even if Keith had moments when he loathed other people’s touch, the Red Paladin never expected for Lance to be the only exception to the rule. And most definitely he did NOT expect the sudden, fiery urges to mount the exact same Cuban Boy each time he so much as existed in the same room as him.

            Nope! It was not happening! Keith probably caught some kind of weird space disease that was eating away at his brain, because he certainly DID NOT find Lance attractive! No, sir! Or that is what he liked to tell his traitorous body whenever he found himself heating up because of Lance’s ocean-like smell. It was stupid, but at the same time Keith couldn’t restrain the part of him that wanted to feel their scents mixed together as one.

            Also, Lance wasn’t helping Keith’s case at all. Take for example that one time when he strode confidently into the training room while Keith was using it (as per usual), wearing that sinful black under-suit they usually wore under the paladin uniform.

           The Cuban claimed that he also wanted to train and that “you Mullet should stop hogging the place for yourself”. Then, he made his way across the room, still in Keith’s line of sight, and started stretching, his movements slow. The half-galra could swear that Lance was doing it on purpose, bending down to touch the tips of his feet with his fingers, back facing towards him; that or Keith was starting to imagine things. Either way, the entire time after that, the Red Paladin had lost his composure, completely distracted by the other sweaty teen shooting bot after bot.

             Did he mention that he lately seemed to like Lance’s smell a lot? Well, scratch that because in that moment the Cuban smelled _divine_ to Keith, and he wanted nothing more than to drown in that oceanic fragrance. To say that the half-galra took more than one blow from the training bots that day would be an understatement.

             Lance wasn’t doing well on his part either. Ever since they found out about Keith’s linage things started to get considerably weirder. The usually broody Red Paladin became more jumpy in regards to human contact, even with Shiro, flinching at every touch received from the others…except from him. That was a much unexpected development, and Lance would have filed it under the impression that he was imagining things, if it weren’t for the little Gremlin pointing out the fact that Keith almost _melted_ whenever the Cuban so much as breathed in his direction.

              To top it all, there was this smoky and spicy kind of scent drifting off Keith’s body each time they sat next to each other. It was getting increasingly freaky because Lance was finding it even harder than normal to keep at bay the urge to make Keith his own; now with the alluring fragrance tempting him with every breath of air.

            You see, even with their bantering, the Cuban still couldn’t deny his attraction to the Mullet, though he did stubbornly label it as ‘only a fleeting crush’. But he wasn’t stupid, and did not delude himself by thinking that there was even the slightest of possibilities that Keith might feel the same. That is why, even with Pidge pointing it out, and with the obvious signals from the teen himself, Lance decided to blame Keith’s recent behavior on some kind of weird space flu.

            Neither him, nor the Red Paladin were right, but they weren’t completely wrong either, for soon they would find out that it had something to do with aliens, yet it was no illness. It couldn’t have been something more ordinary; at least for one half of Keith’s species.

            It had been after a particularly easy mission and the Paladins took to relaxing in their rooms, Keith included. He was feeling highly alert, his senses going haywire, but he paid them no attention, thinking it was due to some leftover adrenaline from the fight. The half-galra was more preoccupied with trying to justify his urge to **_growl_** at whomever (except for Lance) tried to touch him earlier that day. He had been particularly snappy with almost everyone, and the dull ache in his muscles along with the rapidly forming headache was no help in improving his temper. So, Keith took it upon himself to skip training that day and just opt for some well-deserved rest after the mission was over.

            The Red Paladin was immersed in a deep sleep when it started to happen. Somewhere around the middle of the night (or the simulated night) Keith was awoken with a startle to his body being hit by an immense wave of pain. He let out a strangled shout without meaning to, praying that no one was awake enough to hear him. The last thing that Keith wanted was to disturb the rare occasion to rest for the other team members. The teen gritted his teeth as another wave of pain pulsed through his bones. His skin seemed too tight, everything burning like lava. He felt them, more than saw them, his teeth. They were becoming sharper, his ears longer, fluffier. And even if it was dark in the room, his vision was sharpening, making it easier for him to see.

            What. The. Actual. Fuck?

            As the final wave of pain faded away from Keith’s body, a new kind of heat gathered in his belly, scorching hot and leaving the teen yearning to be touched.  Confused, but mostly frustrated, the half-galra tore his shirt off in a futile attempt to cool down. He prepared to do the same with his pants, when the door to his room hissed open and the teen was hit by the overwhelming smell of ocean and Lance, and crap Keith was almost salivating; he was fucked!

            A sudden yell, that’s what awoke Lance. He was a surprisingly light sleeper, and being in space under the constant threat of hostile aliens just seemed to add on to that. The Cuban waited a couple of seconds, listening for other sounds. He couldn’t have imagined the shout because he was able to recognize that voice from million others; it was Keith’s.

            “Come on Lance, get your ass up and go see what’s wrong,” The teen muttered to himself as he arose from his bed.

            After another minute or so of pacing his room, Lance finally stepped out into the hallway, checking if the others were awake, before making his way towards Keith’s room. He stood in front of the door for probably 5 minutes, listening for movement from inside and trying to come up with something to say to the other teen. However, whatever words Lance had prepared beforehand died on his lips once the door slid open, the scent and sight from inside leaving him speechless and gaping like a fish out of water.

            There, standing in the middle of his bed was Keith; it had to be Keith because he had that stupid mullet. But if it weren’t for that, Lance would have had a hard time recognizing him. His eyes were glinting, same as a cat’s, and his ears were long and fluffy, Galra-like. The Cuban would have been spooked, had it not been for the fact that his attention was thoroughly caught by the lack of a shirt on the other teen. Also, if Lance squinted hard enough, he could also notice the way Keith’s pants were hanging dangerously low on his hips; as if he was in the process of taking them down.

            Lance’s rather improper train of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a noise, suspiciously similar to a whine, leaving Keith’s lips, before he clamped them shut. Gulping, the Blue Paladin mustered his courage and stepped into the room, door sliding shut behind him. Against his better judgment, he slowly made his way towards the bed, where a certain half-galra was backing away until his back hit the wall.

            “Hi there Mullet, are you ok? I heard you screaming and came to see what’s wrong,” Lance spoke softly, as if to a wounded animal; though, he supposed, Keith didn’t look far from one in that moment.

            “Get the fuck out Lance, now!” The half-galra growled out, his voice strained and breathy. He was panting, Lance noticed, and he looked off, galra features aside.

            “Slow down buddy, you don’t seem well. I just want to help you. Tell me what to do,” The Cuban supplied, standing in front of the bed and reaching a hand towards the teen, only to quickly retract it a second later when it was met with the swipe of clawed fingers. He cradled the arm to his chest, observing the red scratches adorning his skin. A flash of fear must have gone through Lance’s eyes, because soon Keith let out a distressed sound, his ears drooping in regret.

            The Blue Paladin steeled his resolve, pasting a reassuring smile on his face and taking a seat on the bed, while the other teen seemed to be torn between scooting further away and leaning forward to take a better look at the wound he’d caused.

            “Look, Keith, I don’t know what’s going on but you gotta talk to me. I can’t figure it all out on my own without you speaking to me about it Mullet.”

            “I-I don’t know. I just woke up in pain, and then this happened,” Keith started slowly, gesturing to his whole body. “It was like my body was on fire, and I just wanted it to stop Lance. I wanted the pain to stop. It did, but now I look just like them. Fuck! It wasn’t enough that I had Galra blood in my veins, now I also look like them! What are the others going to believe?! They are going to hate me! I wouldn’t blame them,” He started rambling, finding it harder and harder to breathe; he was panicking.

            A pair of warm hands attached themselves to Keith’s shoulders and he flinched instinctively, before relaxing immediately once he gazed in two pools of deep blue.

            “Breathe Mullet, breathe,” Lance instructed slowly, motioning for the half-galra to match his rhythm of inhales and exhales. “No one is going to hate you. And besides, the ears look kind of good on you. You’ll be just like our personal grumpy alien-cat,” He snickered good-naturedly, hands rubbing circles on the other teen’s shoulders.

            It was working, and soon Keith found himself relaxing, even scooting closer to the Cuban in an attempt to chase after the warmth of his hands. He groaned internally. What was wrong with him? Don’t misunderstand, he always found Lance’s encouraging words to be rather reassuring in dire situations, but he never clung to them like a lifeline such as he was doing in that moment. And why did he smell so fucking alluring, like Ocean and calmness and home?

            Keith’s thoughts were interrupted when one of the hands that were previously on his shoulder touched his left ear, rubbing and scratching at it softly. A purring sound made his way out of his throat and Lance snatched the hand back as if something had burned it. Oh no! Why did he do that? It was beyond embarrassing, and now Lance was clearly mortified or disgusted, or both.

            On his side, the Cuban was trying really hard not to spontaneously combust right then and there from Keith’s cuteness. He purred, he freaking purred when Lance touched him, and it was the most precious sound the Blue Paladin had ever heard in his whole life. But something wasn’t right, because the half-galra was inching away, folding into himself as if trying to disappear, and Lance stupidly realized that his reaction was misinterpreted by the other teen.

            “No can do, Mullet. You won’t get away from me, not after behaving like a cute over-sized cat. So stop reading too much into it, I was just taken aback, that’s all,” Lance scolded, taking hold of Keith’s arm.               

            One of the galra-like ears that were previously drooped in shame gave a twitch of annoyance.

            “I’m not a cat, and definitely not a **_cute_** one. This is serious, Lance. You can’t just barge in, make your jokes and think that everything is fixed. And this,” Keith let out a shuddering breath, “this cannot be fixed,” He finished in a defeated tone, slumping in Lance’s grip. He was feeling excessively tired, but somehow at peace. His previous heated desires fading into just a spark, like a fire being put out by the cool water, and he came to the realization that it was the Cuban’s doing; not his doing per se, but his simple presence was easing Keith’s suffering.

            Lance, noticing the half-galra’s exhaustion, let out a sigh.

            “I got you, Mullet. You’re no cat, but what you obviously are, is tired. Now how about you get some shut eye, and we’ll deal with all this in the morning,” The Cuban suggested, already making a move to get up and return to his own room, when he was tugged back down.

            “Don’t!” Keith chocked out in a panicked voice that was so unlike him, it instantly made Lance freeze on the spot. “Stay here, at least until I fall asleep. I know it’s stupid, and believe me when I say that I myself am frustrated by this more than you are, but something is wrong. I don’t know why, right now, the simple prospect of you leaving terrifies me,” God, he was rambling! He also couldn’t seem to stop, trying desperately to make the Cuban stay. “You can leave as soon as I fall asleep and pretend like it never even happened in the first place.”

             Keith’s breathing was becoming short and irregular, and he refused to so much as look at the other teen, much less make eye contact with him. Something was definitely wrong, Lance decided; his behavior far off from the usual broody Mullet he came to know.

            “Easy buddy, I’ll stay. So breathe, Mullet. I won’t leave for as long as you want me to. Just let me go grab that chair and I’ll be right back.”

            “You don’t have to. Sit on the bed,” Was out of Keith’s mouth before he could even try stopping himself. Heat started to crawl up his face, to the tips of his ears, and the Red Paladin thanked the Universe for it being dark in the room.

            Lance spluttered out a squeaky ‘Okay’, before awkwardly laying down on the empty side of the bed, almost close enough to be touching the other teen. The Cuban sat there, staring at the ceiling through the darkness, trying to process what was happening. He was in the same bed as his (self-proclaimed small) crush, namely Keith, who was going through some kind of Galra puberty phase that consisted of him becoming an over-sized alien cat. What could he say, just another day in the Paladin life?

            A warm body draping himself across Lance’s chest brought him out of his reverie, and the blood shot straight to his face when Keith’s nose nuzzled in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. The half-galra let out an appreciative hum, inhaling deeply and clinging to Lance further.

          “Smells so good,” Was what he said, drowsily, before purring contently and slipping into a deep sleep; effectively and obliviously making Lance self-circuit.

 

 


	2. What has to be fixed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little bit angst-y at first but they get smoothed out in the end...for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, took me long enough! But here is the second chapter. I'm hoping to clarify the situation for our two idiots and then get to the steamy stuff! :3  
> For now, enjoy!

           The first thing Lance noticed when he woke up was an abnormally warm weight pressing onto his chest, along with a sound suspiciously similar to a giant cat’s purr reverberating through the room. The second thing was a strong, musky and spicy scent drifting around him and filling his lungs until he was breathing nothing else but that alluring fragrance. Really, the smell alone should have made him remember, but Lance was still drowsy with sleep and not until he looked downwards at his body, did the memories of what happened flood into his conscious mind.

           There Keith stood, one arm draped over the Cuban’s stomach, and head resting snuggly on his chest; still shirtless, mind you. Obviously, considering the end result, Lance had fallen asleep there after his major meltdown when the half-galra started purring melodiously into his neck. He was still doing it, a constant rumbling sound flowing happily out of him, sending tingles through Lance’s chest in the process.

           The Blue Paladin would have lain there the whole day, just looking at the teen sprawled across his chest, if it weren’t for the fact that he noticed something was wrong. Yes, Keith now had fluffy (and cute) Galra ears, sharp but short claws instead of normal fingernails, and his skin was adorned with several purplish splotches of color; yet what truly concerned Lance was his body temperature. The half-galra was boiling hot, a flush of red taking over most of his face and the top of his shoulders.

            In an attempt to find out just how heated Keith’s forehead was, the Cuban removed one of the hands resting on the teen’s waist and made a move to raise it to his head, when the purring suddenly stopped. Looking down at his chest, Lance’s eyes were met with a pair of dark purple, almost black, ones. Keith was gazing up at him, hair standing up in each and every direction, face unreadable. As if in a daze, the half-galra stood up, heading towards what Lance guessed was his bathroom.

            Not even 5 minutes later, Keith barged back into the room, still very much galra-looking but more alert. The flush on his face was darker, and Lance didn’t know if he should be concerned or if he should be embarrassed himself. His worry won over the mortification when the other teen seemed to be losing his balance, knees wobbling and body tumbling towards the floor.

            Before he even knew what was happening, a pair of arms secured around his waist and stopped his fall. A mix of heat, from the embarrassment, and an inexplicable soothing feeling overwhelmed Keith’s body as Lance held him closely to his chest, supporting his weight.

           “Careful Mullet, we wouldn’t want you to break something on top of having a fever,” The Blue Paladin spoke in a soft voice that Keith was not used to hearing, but that did funny things to his body nonetheless. The half-galra distantly wondered if Lance’s proximity to his body was good or only worsening his condition; because if he heated up more than that, the teen was sure to explode on the spot.

            Noting the lack of response and the somewhat awkward atmosphere, the Cuban cleared his throat, slowly inching away from Keith’s feverish body but still firmly supporting his weight.

            “What’s wrong Mullet? Cat got your tongue?” He quipped, trying to lighten the mood and lessen the embarrassment.

            “Ha. Ha. Very funny, Lance. But this is no time for your stupid humor. I hate to break it to you, but if you haven’t noticed yet, I’m still very much looking like a Galra. And if you don’t have a genius idea about how to fix any of this, running your mouth is not helping at all; better yet, it’s making everything worse,” Keith spat out before he could stop himself, baring his new-found fangs at the other teen. He soon regretted his temper when he saw Lance’s face flash with hurt before setting into an indifferent mask.

            The Blue Paladin stepped away from the half-galra, retracting his hands and clenching them into fists. He really shouldn’t have felt hurt, but he did. Sure, the two of them always bantered, but this time Lance only wanted to help. The Cuban realized that even though he promised himself not to hope for anything, he did it anyways. He hoped that Keith would look at him the same way he looked at Keith. Joke’s on him, because the Red Paladin really did seem to think of Lance as nothing more than a buffoon.

            “Look, Lance I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” Keith’s voice interrupted his self-destructing thoughts. Still it was too late, and Lance had made up his mind.

            “Save it, Mullet. I’m already used to temperamental cats, especially ones that scratch,” The Cuban smirked, though it did not reach his eyes, pointing at the red gashes on his arm. They were an angry red color, raised and irritated; frankly, they looked off on Lance’s otherwise flawless caramel tinted skin.

            Keith felt awful. He knew that the Blue Paladin only wanted to help him and he had reacted like an asshole by insulting him without reason, but he couldn’t help himself. If the half-galra didn’t like to feel one way, it was helpless. The fact that what had happened to him was not something he could control was driving Keith insane with frustration. To top it all, every nerve in his body seemed beyond sensitive, raw, and it did not help improve the teen’s temper in the slightest. The only thing the Red Paladin knew was the fact that Lance seemed to have a major impact on his body’s reactions, whether as a source or an effect to his recent transformation.

            “Now then, if we’ve established the fact that you are one big, feisty cat, I think it’s time we find some answers to this whole situation. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about makeovers but it seems like yours failed to get rid of your mullet, and that’s simply a no in my book. So let’s go find Coran or the Princess and get on top of this, eh Samurai?” Lance spoke, smirk ever-present on his face.

            The Cuban knew he was overcompensating, getting as obnoxious as possible in order to mask the fact that Keith’s words did, indeed affect him. But in the end he didn’t have any reason to feel that way. After all the Red Paladin merely behaved as he always did around Lance, better yet he even had a reason to be snappy, what with the fact that he was going through a life-changing situation.

            The Blue Paladin felt in many ways standing there in the middle of Keith’s room, with the other teen’s appearance being the only confirmation that the prior night did happen, and it wasn’t just Lance’s imagination going wild; but it wasn’t about him, it was about Keith. They needed to find out what was happening to him, and it had to be done fast because the half-galra was glaringly obvious sick or feverish, or both.

            Something was going through Lance’s head, that much Keith was aware of, yet however much he tried to figure out what the teen was thinking about, he could not read his impassive expression. He never noticed how unsettling it was to him seeing Lance without a smile constantly present on his face.

            The half-galra only then realized how unrealistic that was; no one could be happy all the time. Still, why had he not seen Lance down in front of the others even once? Was he holding it all in like Keith was? But he never saw the Cuban burst out into fits of anger as he did. So how was he even dealing with all the pent-up emotions? Keith had his training to help let it all out. It wasn’t healthy, but being violent and relying on impulse was a comfort for him. What about Lance? Was he still holding it all in even then?

            By the time the Red Paladin reverted his attention from his thoughts to the teen standing in his room, the other seemed to have reached a conclusion. Lance’s blue eyes were focused and determined as they made contact with his own, and it took every ounce of control in Keith’s body not to collapse on the spot under that resolute gaze. His body was hit by a newfound wave of warmth erupting from the very core of his being and his legs wobbled when Lance’s oceanic smell gained a whole new intensity. It was intoxicating, but at the same time Keith found himself not minding the idea of dying by suffocation if it meant his last breath of air would be full of Lance.

            “Come on Mullet, we have to figure out what’s going on with you. Put on a shirt and let’s go find the others.”

            Keith nodded his head wordlessly, dismissing the torn t-shirt from the prior night and making his way towards his closet in search of another one. Pulling out a black one, he barely got it on before taking it off a second later. It felt too tight.

            The half-galra frowned, glaring intensely at the discarded fabric. He tried another one and another one until he burned through all the t-shirts from his closet. All of them hugged his body too closely for Keith’s comfort. But he always wore them like that on purpose, opting for skin-tightness in order to have better velocity and precision when fighting.

             Lance was intensely observing Keith’s back muscles as they stretched and constricted while he tried on shirt after shirt, when a frustrated groan interrupted his shameless ogling.

            “You have got to be kidding me!” The raven-haired teen grumbled, throwing the last of his t-shirts on the floor forming a pile of black. Lance swore that guy must have exhausted the entire supply of black fabric in the whole universe with how his closet looked like.

            “What’s wrong? Are you finally over your emo phase?” The Cuban taunted.

            “No, Lance, I am not over my ‘emo phase’ as you call it. It’s just that these t-shirts are too god-damned tight!”

            “Tight? But you always wear them like that. How can they be too tight now?”

            “I don’t know. They just feel uncomfortable. I think it’s because of this whole fiasco,” Keith hissed out, gesturing to his entire body.

            “Well too bad buddy, but you’re not going anywhere like that, not when you have a fever,” The Cuban protested, crossing his arms over his chest like his mother used to do whenever she scolded him. “Wait, I think I have an idea. Stay here and don’t move, I’ll be right back,” Was all he said before he disappeared out of the room, leaving a frustrated Keith behind.

            The Red Paladin knew that Lance would return soon, he really did, but he still felt a sense of panic and loss when the door to his room slid shut after the Cuban. What was wrong with him? That wasn’t normal; he never felt such panic from someone leaving him alone for a couple of minutes, much less from Lance. Though, even if Keith wouldn’t admit it aloud, at least for now, he wasn’t that disturbed about his attachment to the Sharpshooter. Yet, it was mortifying for him that a person could have such an impact over his body and emotions.

            Lance returned soon after with what seemed like dark purple fabric clutched into his hands.

            “Um, I found this at the back of my closet. Don’t know how you feel about the color, but it’s the baggiest one I have, if that helps. Also, it matches the color of your, um, ears!” Your eyes! ‘It matches the color of your eyes.’ That’s what Lance wanted to say. Unfortunately his (self-proclaimed) amazing flirting skills seemed to have gone out the window along with his smoothness, as it happened each time he was in the same room as Keith. He wanted to punch his own stupid mouth.

             “Thanks? I guess…”

             Keith reached subconsciously with one hand to his ears, retracting it immediately and taking the purple material instead. He pulled it over his head, letting himself be hugged by its comfort.

            The t-shirt was obviously baggy even on Lance, but not as much as it was on Keith. It reached about mid-thigh, what with him being shorter than the Cuban. The sleeves were almost down to his elbows and the collar hung slightly to the left, exposing his shoulder. Keith was fumbling, trying to fix the material in place, and Lance, Lance was definitely staring.

            “How is it?” The Cuban finally found his voice, though his mouth seemed unusually dry and his palms clammy. He subtly wiped them on his pants when Keith wasn’t looking.

            “I’m good. It’s more comfortable. Thanks.”

            “Don’t sweat it. Are you ready to go then?”

            Keith nodded his head, still toying with the hem of Lance’s purple shirt, and stepped out of the room, the Blue Paladin right behind him. Stars help him, because Lance was sure that Keith would be the death of him.


	3. Enlightening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bunch of explications regarding the whole fiasco. Or- our resident idiots get educated about what is happening to Keith.

         Walking through the bluish-lighted corridors of the castle was always a somewhat strange experience, what with the constant subtle hum of the ship and the feeling that it was alive in some kind of way, quintessence pulsing through each nook and cranny of it. If you asked him, Lance would tell you that he very much enjoyed it, giving him the feeling that he was never truly alone in the cold reality they experienced; the reality of a deathly intergalactic war.

         It was not a rarity for the Cuban to find himself wandering the very hallways each time sleep would not make his way to him, or whenever he woke up drenched in a cold sweat and trembling with the lingering images of a nightmare flashing before his eyes. It happened more often than not, so much so, that Lance became accustomed to creeping down the halls like some kind of damned soul, at stars know what hour of the night.

        But the situation at hand was far from similar to Lance’s nightly adventures. He was currently not alone, for starters, and his wake-up call was not a nightmare, but the ‘cuddles’ of a cute half-alien (cat) teen that he might or might not have a massive crush on. No homo…yeah, nope.

        The Cuban was still lost in thought when he caught the movement of Keith slightly leaning on one of the walls for support in the corner of his eye. The thing is, that was not the first time it had happened either, but Lance knew better than to ask the mullet-headed teen if he needed help like he did the first time Keith stumbled. In that instance he was met with a vicious glare and a sound akin to a hiss the exact moment he made a move to touch him. Stubborn! So Lance resorted to hovering nearby like a mother hen and carefully studying Keith’s movements in case he would collapse.

        The half-galra was still feeling woozy and strangely disconnected from his body. His mind seemed oddly empty and his mouth spongy. He was also unstable on his feet and very, VERY hot; and not in the same way Lance claimed it about himself, though Keith would agree to that claim in secrecy and in the privacy of his own head. The Cuban was undoubtedly hot. Despite his clothes and posture making him look all lanky and weedy he actually had an awesome body; Keith would know.  He did, after all, tend to sneak glances at Lance’s back whenever they would change out of the suits and back into their normal clothes. The Blue Paladin had really broad shoulders and arms with lean but dense muscles…also, his butt was nice.

        “Mullet, be careful!” -was the thing that brought Keith out of his daydreaming. And by a close call, he managed to stop a second away from colliding face-first into a wall next to the door leading to the common room. Blinking owlishly at the white surface in front of him, the teen stepped slightly to the right and went through the open door; ignoring Lance’s scolding and fussing about always needing to watch where you’re going.

        Despite knowing full well that Keith was not listening, the Cuban kept on ranting about safety until the door slid shut after them. The half-galra hid behind Lance when they were greeted by the sight of all the other inhabitants of the castle gathered in the lounge as if in an important meeting.

        “See, I told you that Tweedledee and Tweedledum would show up at some point. It’s not that big of a deal if they missed breakfast, though I have to admit how suspicious it is that you both did it in the same morning. Care to elaborate?” Pidge piped up from their spot on the couch, the top of their head the only thing visible behind the screen of the laptop.

        If it wasn’t for Keith suddenly falling to the ground while heavily pressing both hands to his mouth and nose, Lance would have had a hard time spluttering out an excuse that wouldn’t even half-convince the evil Gremlin how it was all a coincidence.

         A literal wall of smells suddenly slammed into Keith’s nose all at once, so much so, that he could feel their taste on his tongue. Dizziness and confusion was all he knew for a few moments, but when he came to, he was kneeling on the floor, hands clasped to his nose and mouth in an attempt to block it all out. Countless voices circled around him and Keith should have been worried about what they would say regarding his appearance, yet his brain could only process the noise and the smells that were now stronger; and dammit! He just wanted them to stop and back off!

        A second away from letting out a pathetic whine, Keith’s nose picked up a scent that wasn’t overwhelming in the irritating kind of way; ocean, home, Lance. Blindly, the half-galra turned and launched his body in the direction from which the soothing smell was coming. Instantly clinging to wide shoulders and burying his nose in the crook of a tan neck, Keith inhaled the biggest gulp of air that he ever had; just like a drowning man finally reaching the surface.

        Lance would kindly like to inform you that he did NOT squeak, splutter of flail his arms in any shape or form when Keith practically tackled him and nuzzled his neck. And he most definitely did not shudder when he felt him desperately breathing against his skin like Lance was one of those rare scented pages in beauty catalogues.

        Despite the situation, the Cuban couldn’t enjoy it at all because he knew how amiss it all was. Don’t get him wrong, it’s not like he didn’t fantasize of a day when Keith would be in his arms (wishful thinking…), but it had to be willingly, not because of some kind of alien fever that reduced the mullet-headed teen to a vulnerable state. Those exact thoughts were the only thing that held Lance from spontaneously combusting on the spot in embarrassment.

        “What the fuck just happened?”

        “Pidge, language!” scolded Shiro absentmindedly. Lance knew that he, too, was wondering the very same thing as the small Gremlin. It was written all over his face, in how he scrunched his brows in confusion at Keith’s appearance and position. “Keith, what’s wrong?” He added, crouching in front of the pair and stretching his normal arm towards the said teen in an attempt to rest it on his shoulder.

        Keith only let out a muffled noise of distress and further pushed his nose against the column of Lance’s neck. A spark of protectiveness surged into the Cuban’s chest and he found his arms circling around Keith’s back and pulling him closer. His actions were met with a hum of approval from the teen and shocked looks from his teammates.

        “Okay…not weird at all,” Pidge eyed them weirdly. “So did you two finally fuck or what?” They added, smirk crawling onto their evil little face. Lace chocked on his own spit and hastily pushed a dissatisfied half-alien off him.

        “Nope, I’m done! You explain it to them, Mullet. This is so not my place,” The Cuban squeaked indignantly, standing up and taking his place next to Hunk; perfectly red in the face, all the way up to the tips of his ears. His friend gave him a reassuring smile and a pat on his back. This is why Lance loved Hunk, he just knew what to do and when to do it, and he was always supporting. The absolute best friend anyone could ask for.

        Keith really hated Lance for putting him on the spot like that, and he had no problem showing it by practically glaring daggers into the teen’s face. The sudden return of all the overpowering scents did nothing to improve his mood either, beginnings of a subtle pounding behind his eyes already starting to settle in. Keith sighed, and reluctantly accepted the stretched hand of Shiro, pulling him to his feet. His palm itched where he was touched. That never happened when Lance touched him.

        “Oh, this is indeed unexpected. It appears that the galra genes in you were, after all, strong enough for this to happen. Though, your appearance never indicating the smallest of galra traits was quite deceiving, my boy.” Coran twirled his mustache. Everyone was waiting for him to speak more, but it seemed like the altean was lost in thought.

        “Care to enlighten us normal mortals?” Pidge deadpanned.

        “I think what Coran is trying to say is that Keith is just going through one of the normal cycles of a galra. I don’t know much about it, but from what I’ve heard it should be relatively harmless,” Allura piped up in a cheery voice, as if what she just said was not confusing and worrying the humans more.

        “You are mostly right, Princess. But my guess is that Number Four over here is only in the pre-cycle period. His body has yet to have completely adapted for it to start the cycle. I would say a quintant or two until then. And everything should be right so long as Keith hasn’t already chosen his mate,” Coran finished smiling proudly.

        “That literally made no sense Coran,” Lance began in a whiny voice. “Wait, go back! Mate?! What is that even supposed to mean?” He asked, a slow sense of understanding and mortification starting to bloom in his head. He wasn’t the only one that began to understand. A little way over from him, Keith was starting to pale considerably. How is that even possible? The half-galra was already vampire-looking on his best days but now, Lance thought, he gave a whole new meaning to the concept of ‘pure white’. That is, if you ignored the purple splotches of color.

        “Oh, galra choose a partner that will accompany them through their cycles for the rest of their lives. Usually, after a while of being mated, their cycles will begin to align to one another. A mate is the only one that can satisfy a galra during their cycle, but if a galra hasn’t yet chosen a mate, the cycles only become a period of slight discomfort and what one would call, severe mood swings,” The altean adviser elaborated.

        “What is considered ‘choosing’ a mate? And what exactly happens during these cycles when one has done it?” Keith inquired tensely. When met with several looks of shock he quickly added: “Just to get the full picture and understand this better.”

        Allura nodded in understatement. “Well, choosing a mate depends from galra to galra. But it is usually a person that you trust and want close for the rest of your life. Also someone who you think can protect you with their life and you would do the same for them. Some galra search for comfort in their mates, others for strength. It is a highly subjective matter. We don’t exactly have that much information regarding it all, and galra are not a race known to share their personal problems,” The Princess finished with a thoughtful expression.

        “Now, to answer your question about cycles with a mate, they become a highly hormonal period when one would usually procreate,” Coran added brightly. At least half of the paladins blushed furiously. Not even a beat later, Lance raised his voice with the tone of a man that just reached enlightening.

        “So you mean to say that Mullet is going into heat? As in, like a quiznaking cat?” He spluttered out, disbelieving. Keith was going to kill him.

        “The so-called ‘cat’ is an earthly animal species from what I’ve found out, but I have never heard of the term ‘heat’ until now. What does it mean, my boy?” The altean asked, curiously twirling at his mustache. Lance found himself tongue-tied. Lucky him, he was saved by the ship’s resident Gremlin.

        “A heat, or an estrus period, is a cycle that lasts somewhere around of three to 14 days in which the female cat is receptive to the male. It’s usually the period in which reproduction takes place.”

        “Oh, that is enlightening! Highly similar to the galra cycles, though they often last somewhere around a week and happen twice a deca-phoeb. Also, as I said they tend to become times of reproduction only when a mate is chosen, otherwise the galra is only prone to highened senses and moods.”

       “Wait, so you’re telling me that Keith will go into heat twice a year if he has a banging partner, or he’ll be PMS-ing on us more than he already does on a daily basis?” Lance asked incredulously. “I can’t handle his broody mullet normally, much less if he’s a mood-swinging alien furry!” He added throwing his hands up in frustration.

        Keith let out a menacing growl and flashed his fangs at the Cuban. Lance instantly shut his mouth with a yelp and hid behind Hunk’s big frame. To say that the half-galra was pleased by the reaction would be an understatement. A dangerous thought of how this just became his favorite way of shutting the teen up flashed through Keith’s mind, and he slowly ran his tongue over the fangs, maintaining eye contact with Lance. He saw him shudder all the way from behind Hunk.

        A lot of prodding and pushing later, much to Keith’s displeasure, they reached the conclusion that everything should be fine; what with the half-galra’s adamant claims that he did NOT chose in any shape or form a so-called mate. The only thing they would have to look out for the next nine days or so would be an even more irritable Red Paladin. No biggie.

        As Keith returned to his room and climbed in the bed, he let out a sigh of relief at the lack of smells, save for his own and the oceanic one that clung to the oversized shirt and the bed-sheets. The teen nuzzled the purple material and inhaled deeply, purring in delight. Yeah, no biggie…


End file.
